


A Moment

by raelee514



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 06:42:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11526696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raelee514/pseuds/raelee514
Summary: Jimmy watched Thomas pale to an  unearthly shade of white and his gripped the paper so tightly it tore.  Jimmy swore Thomas was shaking.   He was staring when Thomas stood up stiffly and mumbled an excuse that no one heard and disappeared from the room.





	A Moment

No one thought much about it when Mrs. Hughes walked into the servant's hall and handed Thomas a letter. Jimmy continued to hand out the cards to Thomas, Alfred, Pete the hall boy and himself for the game they were playing. He was surprised, however, to see Thomas open the letter. He never opened his letters downstairs where people could see. He was obsessively private. And after years of friendship, Jimmy understood why Thomas guarded it viciously. It was probably wrong of him, but he found he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Thomas opening the letter. He watched him unfold the paper, and he watched as he read it.

Jimmy watched Thomas pale to an unearthly shade of white, and he gripped the paper so tightly it tore. Jimmy swore Thomas was shaking. He was staring when Thomas stood up stiffly and mumbled an excuse that no one heard disappeared from the room.

He wasn’t sure what to do? Or what happened. Alfred and Pete were complaining about Thomas leaving the game. No one else seemed to have noticed anything happened at all. 

“Can just three play? Maybe I should ask Ivy?” Alfred was wondering.

“I’m not playing,” Jimmy snapped, and he started collecting his cards. 

“What?”

“I got to check on Thom - Mr. Barrow,” he muttered.

“Why?” 

Jimmy blinked at Alfred. “Didn’t you just…”

Alfred stared at him looking like a lost puppy. 

Jimmy gave an annoyed huff and stuffed his cards into their box. Then he headed up the stairs. It was pure instinct, and he knew there was a shot his guess was wrong. But something told him Thomas hadn’t headed outside. No, he’d rushed to his room, where he could close a door and close himself off from the rest of them. Concern for him was churning in Jimmy's gut. He’d never seen Thomas shut down so quickly and never seen him look so sickly pale. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

He walked straight to Thomas’ door and knocked on it. There was no answer, but he heard something thump inside and there was a distant and muffled sound. He couldn’t quite make it out. He leaned closer to the door, ear to the wood, and realized it was the sound of somebody sobbing. He knocked on the door again but was merely a formality. He opened the door relieved to find it unlocked. But it was a short-lived relief because Thomas was sitting on the floor, back against the wall, clutching a pillow to his chest and bawling. 

It shocked Jimmy. Not because he had never seen a man cry. He had, many times, during the war. The tears weren’t the shock. It was that they were Thomas’ tears that floored Jimmy. Thomas could be petty. He was snotty, sarcastic and rude. Thomas could be cutting and mean. But all of it, all of his aloofness and the superiority was a carefully constructed armor to protect his heart. As someone who once broken Thomas’ heart Jimmy was keenly aware of it, and right now it was wounded. 

“Thomas?” It came out a whisper, but he was afraid to speak louder. A part of him wasn’t sure he should be intruding. But he couldn’t pretend not to have seen Thomas’ pain, not to have seen his tears. Jimmy was his friend — his only one. Jimmy felt the sudden weight of that, the realization smacked him hard and felt like too much, way too much, but he couldn’t back away now. 

One day, years ago, Jimmy promised Thomas that they could be friends — he thought he might fail that promise at first. But instead, he found a true friend. Thomas was the best friend he had, and he didn’t think on it all that often. But he knew it was true. And right now his friend was falling apart, and he couldn’t ignore it because that might be easier. 

He moved into the room and sat down next to Thomas on the floor, his back to the wall. He nudged into him, so their arms were touching and held his breath. Hoping Thomas might make the first move. 

“Leave, Jimmy,” Thomas voice was rough from tears and broke from a sob. He wiped at his eyes and his mouth, his entire face ducked down and bent into the pillow he was clutching. 

“No,” Jimmy argued, but he kept his tone low.

Time passed, and Thomas bawled. Hard sobs and harder breaths. Jimmy’s hand found the back of his shoulder. He kept it there a steady presence not knowing what else to do or what to say. After a few more long minutes, Thomas looked at him. Tears were falling out of his eyes, and he seemed to be trying to stop crying but he couldn’t, and Jimmy felt useless. 

“What happened?” He kept his hand on Thomas’ shoulder but moved to face him and almost wished he hadn’t at the pain he saw in his eyes. 

“She stopped loving me, I don’t know why I’m crying…” Thomas’ voice broke on a hard sob. 

“She?”

“Me mum.”

“Your mum?” Jimmy felt something cold trickle down his spine. His mom stopped loving him? That couldn’t be true? Could it? He watched fresh tears start to tumble out of Thomas’ eyes. Without thought, a hand went to Thomas’ face, and he attempted wipe away the endless tears. 

“Died… pneumonia. Months ago.” 

His mum was dead, and Jimmy knew that hole in your soul. Without thought, he lunged forward and wrapped Thomas up in his arms into a hug. Thomas stiffened, but Jimmy just tightened his arms around him. Then Thomas was crying, even harder than before into his neck. Jimmy started making what his instincts told him was a soothing sound into Thomas’ ear, and he hoped it was. He ran his hands up and down his back and his arm. He just held on tight because Thomas was falling and there was nothing else he could do. 

“She let him throw me out. She never wrote me.” 

Jimmy held on tighter and wondered how anyone could turn their back on their son. What and who Thomas was? That wasn’t a good reason, not in his book — not anymore a voice scolded him. He sighed and felt angry the rest of the world would never see Thomas Barrow’s heart. Jimmy’s hands found their way into Thomas’ hair, which was an unruly mess as was his face. Jimmy found himself staring into eyes that were remained full with tears. 

“She was a fool.”

“She was me mum,” Thomas whispered. 

“I know,” Jimmy whispered. 

Thomas surprised him by leaning forward, he wrapped himself around Jimmy, buried his face in his neck and let himself cry. It was less intense, it was slower but Thomas breathing seemed gradually slow, and Jimmy kept petting his hair and rubbing his back. Thomas moved back, and Jimmy found his hand on his face again wiping away the tears. 

Thomas' eyes were bright, and he looked exhausted and vulnerable. His hand reached out and touched Jimmy’s cheek, his thumb tracking Jimmy’s cheekbone. Jimmy found himself holding his breath, and he stilled. He was afraid to move, Thomas was staring at him, tears still falling free from his eyes. Then he was leaning forward, and his lips whispered against Jimmy’s own. It was so light and quick Jimmy wasn’t entirely sure it happened, but Thomas didn’t move away, and their eyes met. Jimmy didn’t dare breathe or move. Thomas’ mouth pressed against his, really pressed this time, it was tentative and unsure, and Jimmy felt tears hit his skin from Thomas’ eyes. The hand that he had in Thomas’ hair moved again, slow and reassuring and he felt his lips move ever so slightly. 

“Jimmy,” Thomas whispered staring right at him. 

Jimmy nodded unsure what else to do or say. Thomas closed his eyes and sighed. New tears dripped from his eyes and Jimmy smooth them away. Thomas leaned forward and buried his head against his shoulder. Jimmy continued to hold him and soothe him with touch and the stupid sound. It seemed to be working. Thomas breath got slower and slower until he slumped into Jimmy completely asleep. He held him until his muscles protested loudly then somehow he managed to get Thomas into his bed without waking him. 

He pulled off Thomas’ shoes, pulled free the collar and bow tie, and managed to slip him out of his jacket. Then he pulled the covers up over him and studied him. He looked a mess, even with his eyes closed it was obvious he cried for hours. Jimmy made sure the covers wouldn’t move off him before he left the room. 

In the hallway, he touched his mouth. He allowed himself to think about that small tiny moment, wrapped around all the grief and tears. He wasn’t sure how it helped Thomas, but he knew it had and wasn’t that all that mattered? He was Thomas’ friend, his only friend and he hoped he helped him well enough. There was one last thing he needed to do now before he went to bed himself. He made his way to Mr. Carson’s door, knowing everyone else had gone to bed hours ago. He knocked on it, loudly as he dared, because he had to let the Butler know Thomas wasn’t going to be up to working.


End file.
